Breaking the Water
by TheCatInTheShadows
Summary: Just a short tag to the story Breaking the Silence, set after the last chapter. M because I'm paranoid. Still, pure Johnlock without bigger plot.


**Might call this an **_**interlude**_** between two stories or just a little one shot to the story Breaking the silence, set after the last chapter.**

**M because I'm paranoid.**

**Still, pure Johnlock without bigger plot.**

As soon as they were home with some cuts and broken bones, Sherlock pushed him against the wall of their living room.

"I have dreamed this." His hand seemed to be everywhere same time and John groaned. He had to admit that he was aroused at Sherlock's heed, but…

"Sherlock, I don't think that we are in any condition to do anything… _more_, right now." John felt the sharp pain but he just couldn't stop Sherlock's wandering hands. Although he was slept through the night in hospital he still was terribly tired, more mentally than physically but Sherlock seemed to gain just more energy from somewhere.

"I have lost you too many times." Sherlock murmured on his neck and John realized that he was moaning in response.

"Sherlo…"

Sherlock was too close. His cold hands pushed under his jumper, "You are mine."

This time Sherlock pushed too hard and John yelped in pain and suddenly Sherlock was gone and John hold his breath when he slumped on the floor, the pain in his chest jus too much.

"Oh no, John, are you okay?"

"Sherlock, please, just take it easy, just…" John opened his eyes and found Sherlock's worried eyes so close of his. Sherlock cupped his face on his hands.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away. I'm so so sorry. You're hurt and I just…"

"You are hurt too. It'll take some time before we are capable to…" John swallowed his last words.

"Sex. Yes." Sherlock nodded suddenly realizing their situation. He wanted John so badly that he had forgot that John had never ever been with any man. And now they were together. John's hands took hold of his wrists, smiling.

"We have lot of time. Like rest of our life."

"But you want…?"

"Oh god yes." John kissed him. "Just, slowly, will you?"

"Anything to you. Anything." Sherlock promised and felt some relief.

"There is something what I though last night." John reached under his collar, pulling out his ID tags. Without word he stretched up and placed them Sherlock's neck. "My promise to you to stay with you."

Sherlock weighted them in his hand, looking so buzzled that John started laugh, but his laugh chanced to cough. Sherlock frowned.

"Maybe you should have stayed in hospital. That doesn't sound good."

"I hate being there." John whispered when he got hold of his breath again. "And everything is alright."

But Sherlock didn't look so sure. "Say the doctor. Right. Up and go to you bedroom. Shower first. You smell." Sherlock helped him up.

"So do you." John watched their locked hands. "Come with me? I… I would get some help to wash my back."

And Sherlock followed him and realized that he couldn't actually lift the shirt away without John's help. He had three broken ribs himself and the pain medication was wearing slowly off. And John looked more and more tired. Sherlock was bit of shocked when he found the new scars. Of course he had seen John naked before and John had allowed him to study the shoulder, but there was so much more now.

"Some day you have to tell me what happened to you." Sherlock whispered, standing behind John, his arms wrapped around the smaller man, the water softly flowing over them.

John leaned his head back, resting against Sherlock shoulder, felt the water on his face. He couldn't answer or do any promises. How strange it was, being home with Sherlock, his lover, naked and it was so natural. Suddenly he missed Mary, their wandering life, their escape. How much he had loved her. And how much more he loved Sherlock now. They just stood there a long time until the all warm water was used.

After shower Sherlock helped him in his own room in upstairs. John's limp was back and he barely took hold himself.

"I need to buy bigger bed." Sherlock murmured, sitting beside John who was fast in sleep. He watched the blond man and knew that there would be many times when he was just going to stare him, but now he was too tired. Although he wanted to stay and curl up John's side, that would do any good to his broken ribs, and John's, so he left.

It was a long week. Just the two of them, Mrs Hudson taking care of their food. Usually they just slept. Sherlock played his violin. John made that perfect tea what Sherlock always had missed. Sherlock studying John, John just watching Sherlock.

Half way second week John asked from Sherlock about Scotland.

"One of my uncles lives there. I think we can go and visit there. Maybe we should call James and ask him to come. I though earlier that I would like to see him." Sherlock said absently.

"James?"

"Mycroft's son."

John stared him and then he just, "Oh. So, do you think we can go?"

"I call them."

Week later they were driving through the country heading to the small village called Lochdubh.

* * *

**Continue Breaking the Heart**


End file.
